


Vive La Revolution

by Goodchampagneandprivateplanes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Executioner Harry, French Revolution, Guillotine, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I promise, In a way, M/M, NO DEATH, Running Away, Victim Louis, but nothing more, i guess, larry stylinson - Freeform, mention of husband!louis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 14:54:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6810019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goodchampagneandprivateplanes/pseuds/Goodchampagneandprivateplanes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, you were way too beautiful to kill.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vive La Revolution

Louis was being pulled through a crowd, two men holding back his arms. People were cheering and chanting, while he was being forced up the stairs to await his destiny. The dark clouds in the sky started to drizzle rain and thunder was heard in the distance. But, none of that mattered anymore to him.  
  
You see, Louis didn’t do anything. Although, of course, to end up five feet away from the blade of a guillotine, you had to be accused of doing something. What exactly? Who knows. Louis doesn’t even know. He heard many accusatory names being yelled from the crowd, such as “Murderer” and “Thief”. Last thing he knew, he was at home, reading the news and sipping on tea. But now, he’s being thrown up onto a stage in front of hundreds of civilians.  
  
Life during the French Revolution wasn’t easy. Louis, unlike most of his friends, did not engage in the war, and rather liked trying to distance himself from the terror that was constantly surrounding him. All it took was for one knock on his door for his life to change.  
  
Louis spat in the face of one of the, presumably, guards. If he was going out, he was definitely going out with a fight, and wasn’t going to give up easy. Rough hands forced him onto the plank of wood, and while one set held him down by the small of his back, another pair tied his legs to the plank, and another tied his hands behind his back. His head was placed into the slot of the guillotine and he drew in a harsh breath. At this point, there was no point in fighting. He couldn’t even see anybody in front of him, except for a wave of faces, all chanting.  
  
He suddenly felt the presences leave from behind him. There were no more hands, and the crowd all looked excited. Some children were up front, watching intently, waiting for the next move.  
  
Suddenly, a booming voice cut through the crowd and headed up the stairs toward Louis. Fuck.  
  
Louis knew exactly who he was. He was the one who the town referred to as the executioner. Personally, Louis liked to call him the Angel of Death. It was more poetic and it seemed to fit his figure better. When he thought of an executioner, he thought of a stout man with a lousy fitting suit, with an evil smirk always plastered on his face. But, no, of course he had to be the most handsome man that Louis had seen. He had seen him at previous gatherings and around town before the war broke out. He was a high figure in the political system, but not high enough to be considered royalty. Louis wasn’t quite sure what his title was, except, now he just knew him as the Angel of Death. But now, as Louis’ time is running out, he can’t even think of those three words anymore and simply just referred to him, in his own mind, as the man. He didn’t have time to think.  
  
His eyes met Louis’ eyes and Louis saw a softness he hadn’t seen before. His green eyes were soft, and his face was soft, and his jacket was soft, and fuck. At least, if Louis had to die at the hands of somebody, he would prefer it to be at the hands of a handsome man.  
  
Louis wasn’t exactly what you would classify as “into women”. He was more of a “I’ll hang out with women, and if I need to, I’ll marry a woman, but when I’m drunk and flirty, I’ll always find a man” kind of guy. He didn’t want a relationship with any body, and in his final moments, he realized that he didn’t actually ever love a woman in his life. Like - a love, love, of course. He loved his mother and his sisters, but he never loved his girlfriend or, hell, even his wife.  
  
The soft man’s hands found their way to Louis’ neck and Louis immediately stiffened. Louis’ hair was falling in front of his face at this point, drenched from the now-pouring rain. The crowd was thinning out a bit and some people decided to take cover under some nearby shop’s overhangs. The thunder was now louder than it had been before, and Louis kind of just wanted to die already.  
  
The soft man’s voice was heard loud and clear again. And, of course, in pure coincidence, the thunder boomed again, and more people took cover. There would always be another execution.  
  
The civilians stood at the sidelines now and not many people were in front. Lightening struck in the distance. Louis tried to let out a sigh, but realized that his chest was tied down to the plank too and his chest would not expand the way he wanted it to. He grew increasingly tired, just trying to breathe, and let his eyes close. He no longer cared about the presence of the soft man, or the chants and cheers of the adults waiting for his imminent death. He didn’t care about the children playing in the street. He didn’t care that he left his tea kettle on and his whole building would probably be burnt down by morning time if that kettle didn't get turned off. He didn’t care that he wouldn’t be able to say good bye to his family, or I’m sorry to his friends, or kiss his dog on the forehead again. He just, quite simply, almost gave up. The only thing he did care about, was seeing the soft man one last time before the blade would be released and end up ending his, what seemed like, pathetic life. The soft man’s hands moved down to his back, almost soothingly.  
  
The crowd roared with kind of intensity that Louis had only heard a few times in the past. This type of intensity only occurs within five minutes of the death of the accused. Louis felt the soft man’s hands on his hands now and suddenly Louis felt lighter, as if he could breathe again. The handsome man continued talking and Louis felt his hands move lower down to behind his knees. Louis let out a sigh, his eyes still closed. He focused on the rain beating down on the back of his head. He felt like he could think clearly again as he felt the thunder vibrate the entire plank at this point. The handsome man’s voice was tuned out of his head at this point. He was too busy focused on the man’s hand placement on his body. He was focused on accepting his fate.  
  
Louis’ body stiffened again quickly and took a big breath as he started to hear the crowd count down.  
  
_Ten._  
  
Louis felt his eyes water and he opened them up. Nobody stood before him in front of the platform except for a few people - mostly children.  
  
_Nine._  
  
Louis closed his eyes again and pressed his hands together, in an attempt to reach out to a God that he never prayed to and never believed in.  
  
_Eight._  
  
Louis’ lips started moving, hoping someone in the other world would hear him and help him.  
  
_Seven._  
  
Louis has accepted his death at this point and was simply just trying to figure out how to settle into the after life.  
  
_Six._  
  
He really did find this handsome man attractive.  
  
_Five._  
  
Louis could feel the handsome man’s hands on the back of his ankles.  
  
_Four._  
  
The thunder clapped again.  
  
_Three._  
  
Louis felt the energy from the lightening surge through his body and he felt lighter for a second - he almost wondered if the handsome man had already pulled the blade and he had died.  
  
_Two._  
  
Louis felt like he was falling backward off of the plank.  
  
_One._  
  
Louis held his breath, suddenly vertical for a split second before being picked up.  
  
_Slash._  
  
The crowd cheered as they heard the familiar sound of the blade running down the side. Before Louis could even open up his eyes, he was being pulled by the handsome man, running at a speed he had never reached before. He couldn’t quite process what was going on. Was this what it was like running into heaven? Purgatory? Hell?  
  
The rain beat down in front of him and he was barely able to see two feet in front of him. The wind picked up and he felt himself sway with the wind a bit, but he was steadied by the person pulling him frantically through the town. Louis had realized that the handsome man's hands on his body were him loosening the ropes that were binding him to the plank. He silently thanked the God, that he now had more reason to believe in, for letting the day of his supposed-to-be-death be dark and raining, otherwise, he for sure would have been dead by now.  
  
He wiped the beads of rain off of his eyelashes and looked next to him. It seemed as if the other person had done the same since his head turned to meet his fairly quickly.  
  
“What —“ Louis started  
  
“Don’t talk — just run,” the handsome man panted. Louis obliged and the handsome man let go of his hands. They ran together through the town until the crowd couldn’t be heard in the background. They ducked into a small, covered alley and went into the back patio of one of the local shops, which was recently shut down.  
  
The men barely caught their breath before they looked up at each other.  
  
“What are —“ Louis started again, quickly to be shushed by the handsome man.  
  
“Don’t talk. I just fucked up and you are alive and damn you’re beautiful.”  
  
Louis looked at the other man, partly in shock, partly in pure admiration.  
  
“I’m Harry,” the handsome man said. Finally, a real name.  
  
“So, you really are an angel, eh?” Louis said, still slightly panting, smirking to himself.  
  
“I guess I am,” Harry smiled back. “You know, you were way too beautiful to kill.”


End file.
